Notices of the American Mathematical Society
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Aspiring and Inspiring: Tenure and Leadership in Academic Mathematics
Communicated by Notices Associate Editor Emily Olson
Aspiring and Inspiring
Tenure and Leadership in Academic Mathematics
Edited by Rebecca Garcia, Pamela E. Harris, Dandrielle Lewis, and Shanise Walker. AMS, 2023, 189 pp., https://bookstore.ams.org/mbk-150.
The start of the fall term coincides each year with my return to attempting a regular exercise routine. Aside from walks with friends, I’ve never enjoyed exercise, and usually my well-laid plans for getting back into the shape I was in twenty years ago peter out after a few weeks. My colleague Katie, thirteen years my junior, talked me into joining a CrossFit-inspired class last spring led by Thad, a challenging instructor we both like. I would watch as Katie lifted barbells that appeared massively heavy and listen to the satisfying clank as they hit the ground after her lift. I, on the other hand, was doing my best to lift the barbell with no additional weight attached, just the bar, and no sound of success. One night after one such training session, I picked up this edited collection of essays and began reading it. From the very first article I saw my struggles—in math, in life, and even in the gym—talked about openly and honestly. Maria Emelianenko said, “I have been hopelessly failing at a task of holding myself to an impossibly high standard…”(p. 20) and “I cannot trust anyone with making decisions on my behalf since no one knows my strength and weaknesses better than me” (p. 21). So true.
How has success been defined in a mathematical academic career? Matriculate to the best undergraduate institution (based on a national ranking) you can, take as many advanced courses as possible, participate in an REU or more than one, publish an undergraduate research paper, next matriculate to the best graduate school that you can (again based on a national ranking) where you work with one of the top researchers in the department and publish several papers. Finish your PhD and start a postdoc at a top university. Accept a position at a top-ranked university and publish, publish, publish to earn tenure; then publish, publish, publish more to earn full professor. It’s exhausting just typing it out, let alone living it. Notice what’s missing. There’s no mention of self-care, a partner or family, a life. For many of us in mathematics, this is not the track we wanted to be on, even from the start. However, it still may loom large in our minds as what we should have wanted. What we should be aspiring to. What success looks like.
Jacqueline Dewar implores us to “each come to—and honor—our own definition of success,” (p. 3) which she defines for herself as wellness, a balanced life, and a community where she belongs. This sentiment is echoed throughout the book, as others point out the importance of not letting anyone tell us that there is one best path for our careers. Allison Henrich writes about how she changed her research field to one that has more possibilities for student research. She also amended her scholarship to include writing which “fed [her] soul” (p. 49), like her work on Living Proof: Stories of Resilience Along the Mathematical Journey. Living Proof feeds us all as it helps to humanize mathematics by normalizing the struggles that we face. Kathryn Leonard shows us in a poignant description how her career path could be read as either wildly unsuccessful or successful, depending on the lens through which you view it. Cynthia Wyels defines “winning” academia as, “finding ways to contribute to the greater good” (p. 176). This book made me stop and think about how I have defined—and to some extent still may define—success in my own life (including at the gym).
The editors of this volume, themselves leaders in the mathematics community, drew together the experiences of eighteen prominent women and gender minority mathematicians in seventeen different chapters. These people represent academia at liberal arts and research institutions, have served in department and university administration, are leaders in society, have served as journal editors, have directed national programs, and have won numerous prestigious awards. When we learn about the successes of someone in mathematics, it’s all too easy to think that it was easy, straightforward, effortless. In this volume we hear the stories of these women and, as if they are sitting next to us at our dining room table, they give us personal advice and tips on how to have success like they have enjoyed.
Erica Graham wrote a compelling chapter about being in the intersection of a number of identities (she self-identifies as a privileged, Black, queer woman) and how that creates an ethos where, it’s “very easy to internalize messages of inferiority when we don’t see ourselves reflected in the mathematicians standing before us” (p. 32). Returning to her alma mater to teach, she was the only Black science faculty member, and as such, BIPOC students would seek her out to share their stories of racism. “[Racial battle fatigue happened at] that moment when every single microaggression seemed to find all the others, and they collided to paint a huge, ugly… portrait of academia…: the implicit biases; the tired diatribe against weak backgrounds and under-preparedness, which strangely only seemed to apply to BIPOC students; the not-so-subtle discussions about diversity and rigor…; the blatantly racist, classist, sexist, and every other -ist hiring practices” (p. 38). Graham calls academics out for the “stock, Hallmark-esque promise to do better” (p. 39), and well she should. How can we really do better? Among other things, Graham suggests true allyship by acknowledging our privilege, addressing biases we observe, and practicing microaffirmations.
Some authors provide a particular bit of advice that has worked well for them. Henrich describes a technique she learned from Kerry Ann Rockquemore, the founder of the National Center for Faculty Development and Diversity. Rockquemore suggested setting aside time on Sunday evenings to map your to-do list onto your calendar for the week, including classes, office hours, meetings, and times for scholarship both with collaborators and independently. Henrich has become better over time at estimating the time required for various tasks, and she’s more likely to keep time for research when it’s on the schedule.
Perla Myers shared the idea of “’multifaceting:’ accomplishing more than one objective with a single task” (p. 99). An example was when she was the associate dean of faculty. She would introduce new faculty to the campus with a walking tour. On the tour, she would learn about how they were settling in, explain the resources available to the faculty and where they could find them, introduce the new faculty to others they met along the way, and enjoy some exercise. As another example of multifaceting, she gave the students in her math course for future elementary school teachers the assignment to develop and implement an activity for a Family Math Night at her son’s elementary school. This allowed her students the opportunity to learn that they needed to understand the mathematics deeply to be able to explain it. It also provided a resource for the elementary school. And Myers was able to participate in her son’s life and meet his classmates and their families. “One activity. Many outcomes” (p. 101).
When Irena Swanson moved from a fifteen-year career as a professor at Reed College to becoming the department head in the Department of Mathematics at Purdue University, she learned a great deal about running a department. For instance, she advocates for learning by asking questions. Also, interrupting a meeting or class with a question “can be a boost to everybody’s attention” (p. 136). “Make sure to give credit where it is due, and do so generously” (p. 137), she maintains, along with accepting blame when things go wrong based on your actions. I’ll mention one other from her list of things she learned: “Stand up for what is right. You cannot correct all the wrongs in the world, but if they are within your power, do address them” (p. 137).
One could imagine that if each person has their own definition of success, the advice of the authors of this volume to others for climbing the tenure ladder wouldn’t share much commonality. However, the similarities in their advice for success are noteworthy.
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Get out of your comfort zone and say “yes” to new opportunities. Jacqueline Jensen-Vallin also points out that you should use times when you need to say “no” as opportunities to raise up other individuals who may not receive the same offers you do.
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Work on your own self-confidence, deal with your feelings of inadequacy, trust yourself, and encourage, as Emelianenko calls it, your “alpha-female” (p. 26).
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Find advocates and mentors for different aspects of your career and life, and ask for advice when you need it.
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Build in accountability to your schedule by belonging to writing groups or having collaborators.
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Find a community where you can be your whole self.
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Take care of yourself.
Wyels pointed out several things that we can all do for junior faculty, among them: share your teaching resources including syllabi, activities, and assignments; offer to critique job applications, grant proposals, and tenure portfolios; and promote your colleagues to others because “people tend to select those they know for various positions and opportunities” (p. 181). She notes that although her recommendations are written from the perspective of a more senior faculty member, she hopes to inspire more junior faculty members to know they can ask for these things.
The book, organized alphabetically, ends with the chapter by Wyels. It’s a fitting end to the book because it is largely looking forward. Wyels reminds us, again, to reach back to people who are climbing the academic ladder after us. Even though, she points out, one is not “responsible for how you were socialized into specific beliefs; you’re responsible for what you do going forward” (p. 182). We can, for example, “[i]ntervene on behalf of students and colleagues from marginalized groups…” (p. 182) and even consider taking on administrative roles to change all we can for the better.
All of the authors acknowledged the support and the advice from others that have helped them along their journeys. I was not surprised because I don’t think that anyone can thrive without mentorship and a community. However, I was alarmed to read that many attributed some step in their careers to serendipity or just plain good luck. This is not acceptable. The success of women and gender minorities in our profession should not depend on luck. We can do better. We must do better. As Graham suggests, we need to change the academy to make a successful career in mathematics, however one defines it, a possibility for anyone who desires to study math. Emelianenko points to “sowing the seeds of change” by showing our children that women and gender minorities can have successful careers and lives in mathematics. I recommend that you read Aspiring and Inspiring: Tenure and Leadership in Academic Mathematics to see how it could affect your future.
I, personally, have a new definition of success. Become an ally. Become a mentor. Sow the seeds of change. Work to reform the academy.
Deanna Haunsperger is a professor of mathematics and the John E. Sawyer Professor of Liberal Learning at Carleton College. Her email address is dhaunspe@carleton.edu.
Article DOI: 10.1090/noti2880
Credits
Photo of Deanna Haunsperger is courtesy of Carleton College.